Chamber of Secrets: Ten Hundred-Word Vignettes
by A.C.T. of Paradigm
Summary: Ten vignettes, each of a different character from Chamber of Secrets. Each vignette is a hundred words long. Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Myrtle Warren, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Cornelius Fudge, Colin Creevey, Rubeus Hagrid, Luna Lovegood, and Harry Potter. Written for the Writers Anonymous Drabble Challenge.


Draco Malfoy read the letter from his father again, but he didn't like it any better than the first time. The Chamber of Secrets was all about murdering children as far as Draco could see. A Malfoy should have nothing to do with it! And while Draco had been ordered to have nothing to do with it, he was being asked to cheerlead the effort from the sidelines, which was frankly disgusting. There was something wrong with Father, just as Mother had hinted.

Father had always been perfect. Draco concealed his grief and confusion even from himself. Malfoys were strong.

* * *

Ron Weasley drew the curtains of his four-poster and composed himself for sleep by imagining the look on Malfoy's face when he was caught red-handed. He and Harry and Hermione would save the day, just like last year. Soon the Polyjuice Potion would be ready and they'd fool Malfoy with a cunning series of questions, such as…

He frowned a little as his mind drew a blank. "You're the Heir of Slytherin. Own up!" probably wasn't cunning enough, but it was the best he'd come up with. But Hermione would figure it out. She was good with logic and stuff.

* * *

Myrtle Warren ghosted across her bathroom. There was something odd going on but she couldn't put her finger on it—metaphorically speaking. Her bathroom floor kept being dirtied in a way that didn't make sense. It reminded her of something. But what? She couldn't remember.

The endless, dreary days and years of her afterlife tended to blur together, but this was different. Someone was tampering with her. Not that Hermione Granger girl, tempting as it was to blame her, the condescending know-it-all. No, it had started earlier. It had started when she was alive! She wasn't allowed to remember… what?

* * *

Ginny Weasley dreamed of Harry Potter as she absent-mindedly wrung the neck of one of Hagrid's roosters. The flapping of the dying bird alarmed the other chickens, and she'd have to wait for them to calm down again before she continued. At least it was quieter and much less messy than cutting the throat of the previous rooster. Harry was so perfect! His eyes, particularly. But even his hair, so wonderfully messy. She wanted to run her hands through it so much!

She wiped her hands absently on her robes, not noticing the feathers and blood that she left behind.

* * *

Hermione's eyes blurred as she read another old book. The answer was in here somewhere. It must be! She'd looked and looked until Madam Pince had begged her to stop, but she was Hermione Granger. She was the smartest witch of the age, but the one thing she hadn't learned was how to quit. And being the smartest meant that every problem was hers to figure out. At least, it was when all the grown-ups failed them again. If anyone else was petrified, or if someone died, it was her fault.

She took a ragged breath and turned the page.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge wondered what to do about the trouble at Hogwarts. He'd never been any good at making decisions and was continually amazed that no one seemed to notice. But from time to time a crisis came along where everyone demanded action but couldn't agree on what to do. Usually he did nothing at all except to listen attentively to everyone. That is, until events forced a decision on them. Then he boldly took the only option remaining to them. But he was being rushed to take action about the Chamber of Secrets. As if anyone knew anything about it!

* * *

In his dream, Colin Creevey asked the same question of everyone he met. "Am I dead?"

Most didn't seem to notice him, which tended to confirm his fears, but some stopped and spoke to him.

"Of course you're not dead!" said Gilderoy Lockhart jovially. "I'm too important to talk to dead children, you know." But his smile didn't reach his eyes, and Colin wasn't convinced.

Colin eventually noticed Filch's cat watching him. "We've been petrified," said Mrs. Norris. "And I'd be astonished if they revived us. How many lives do you have left?"

"I'm only allowed this one," said Colin.

* * *

Hagrid sat hunched in his cell in Azkaban. He could barely remember his own name. Every day, every minute, he yearned for death. He was a criminal, an evildoer. Why else could he be here? How else could he feel so bad? He begged the Dementors to kill him, but they just laughed.

He hated himself for forgetting his crime. Not that his crime would be anything much. It would have been something stupid, even comical, except someone had died. Must have done.

He rocked back and forth and wept. "I'm sorry," he moaned. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

* * *

Luna Lovegood was startled by the announcement that Ginny Weasley had been taken by the Heir of Slytherin and all was apparently lost. Ginny Weasley, the beautiful princess? But on second thought, of course she was. Harry Potter wouldn't rescue just anybody. Or, rather, he would, he was that kind of boy, but it didn't matter because the world didn't work that way. The Weasleys were impoverished nobility, just like the Lovegoods.

It was Luna's fault. If she'd made the effort, Harry would have noticed her and she'd be the sacrificial victim! She sighed dreamily. Ginny was one lucky girl.

* * *

Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table as the feast went all around him. He was so tired that he wasn't doing much thinking, but he was happier than he could remember.

He'd been so happy to rescue Ginny, and then he'd freed Dobby. He'd definitely felt he couldn't be happier when Hermione arrived fully restored and given him a hug that made his ribs creak. But then Hagrid had returned and Dumbledore had awarded them enough points that Gryffindor won the House Cup. He had never been happier. But he still hoped that his third year would be quieter.


End file.
